From Fear To Courage
by HavocHound
Summary: (Takes Place Between Zuma's Fear and upcoming Zuma's Courage) A few months after the events of Zuma's Fear, various characters begin to slowly grow in power, look for love, or find hope and courage in the coming darkness.
1. Damian Stone

_**AN: Well, people have begged, pleaded, and demanded for it, so we're finally going to do it. Here at last is From Fear To Courage, these are six one shots focusing on specific characters in the time between Zuma's Fear and the upcoming sequel Zuma's Courage. These series of one shots are to show case how the various characters are doing in the time between both fics. For those of you who have never read Zuma's Fear before, it is a requirement for you to read first so please go to my profile and look it up on my list of stories.**_

 _ **As for what characters I'll be focusing on, we'll be doing the following in order: Damian Stone, Rocky, Ryder, Zuma, Detective Shaw, and Chase. I'm doing Stone first because he was the easiest to come up with an idea for and I've gone through the process so many times in my head I can remember it in my sleep. That an I think people want to see Damian Stone and I based this on a scene from an existing movie that I love.  
**_

 _ **After I finish From Fear To Courage, I'll take a month break to prepare for Zuma's Courage where the story will finally end. Well, at least from me because then we'll zip forward to Everest's story in this series but it will be done by a different author then me.**_

 _ **Anyway, let's begin. Warning,  
**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol.**_

* * *

Costal City may have been a big tourist sight for beach fun, good weather, and tons of excitment, but there was a large darker side to it as well. Many people sometimes compared it to LA's crime rate, only less chaotic, but there was a big gang society that lived in the darker underbelly of well loved city. While gangs were a big thing, most of them followed a strict set of order and rules to keep things from going too far or into all-out war. However, for a time there was an exception to this and one group did anything without any care from murder and rape to drugs and weapons. This was the gang formerly run by Damian Stone.

Anybody who tried to take down Damian Stone in the past died horribly, painfully, and with utter regret they even tried to take him down. The worst thing about a psychopath was when he was both intelligent and cunning at the same time. In the end, the other gangs realized that it was better to work with him, or avoid him, rather than go up against him. Thankfully, his reign ended when he was arrested and sentenced to jail two years and two months ago. Since then, others had risen, taking his old territory, gang members, and "merchandise".

That was until word spread that Damian Stone had escaped. Many who had taken his stuff were fearful of their lives while some tried to point out that Damian had nothing to work with if he wanted vengence. However, after hearing what had happened in Adventure Bay and the destruction he caused, everyone was soon afraid once more.

Not two months after Damian left Adventure Bay, rumored to have driven the dog who got him arrested into killing himself, the top seven gang leaders were called into a meeting by an abandoned factory at the docks. The seven, arriving with their bodyguards, all sat down on a round table with chairs set up for them. Each of them was involved in something illegal: drugs, prostitution, arms dealing, extortion, blackmail, etc. You name it, and they did it.

"So who called this meeting in? Did you, Andre?" asked a ruff looking Caucasian with a green bandana as he addressed an African American with a white business suit, bald head, and glasses.

"I thought you did?" asked Andres in surprise. He turned to the only female of the seven, a Chinese girl in a robe, and asked, "Yin? You set this up?"

"Does it look like I'd rather waste my time with you losers then working on getting more money?"

Everyone was quiet for a bit until another gang member, a Hispanic looking muscled dude got up and spat on the ground. "Man, forget this. I'm out of he-"

He didn't even get a chance to finish talking as automatic gunfire made contact with the table and quickly sent everyone down for cover while their bodyguards took out their pistols and aimed around the factory. However, a few were shot down in the ensuing chaos from gunfire everywhere from above. Either by intention or bad aim, the bullets managed to hit the downed bodyguards in non-lethal areas, but that didn't stop them from cursing their mouths off from the pain before blacking out.

The bosses and their men looked ready to run for their lives when just as quick as the guns fired, they suddenly stopped.

"I started the meeting actually," said a voice from a railing up above as he made his presence known with two others beside him. "Glad you could all make it. I hope you enjoyed the opening entertainment. Now it's time for the main event."

The bosses and bodyguards looked up, only to gasp. "Oh, shit… Stone…" whispered the Hispanic.

Damian Stone, smirking with his gold tooth shining and crazed blond and light green dyed hair shining in the pale moonlight from a nearby window, appeared before the group holding an AK-47 while two of his gang members stood side by side with him also armed. "Hello, Rodriguez, how's your mother doing?"

"She died last year," muttered the Hispanic.

"I'll be sure to send flowers," said Stone, shrugging. "It's been awhile guys. Missed me?"

"You know you could have just told us it was you! Son of a bitch!" shouted the Caucasian with a Bandana.

"Aww, but where would the fun in that be Jackson? You know how I love to make an entrance. I mean it's been around two years since we all last saw each other. You've all done well for yourself." Damian started pacing up and down the catwalk. "I mean in the past two years your territory, gang members, and even infamy has really increase since I got behind bars. One has to wonder if you… maybe stolen it from somebody…" He aimed his AK at them which made the bosses all gulp.

"H-H-Hey! You got caught!" shouted Andre, pointing at Stone. "You know how it works, Stone! You get caught or end up dead, your territory is up for the taking and all with it."

Stone directed his glare at Andre which made the man nearly step back with fright. However, Damian closed his eyes, lowered his gun and smiled. "Of course I know that. I've done it myself. I may be a criminal who's willing to shoot you all dead, piss on your corpses, and grind them in a meat grinder to make roast beef out of you so that I can feed some starving hobos… but I'm not a hypocrite. Besides, that's not while I'm here."

Everyone below sighed as Yin asked, "Then why are you here?"

"Well, each of you _owes_ me," answered Damian as he tapped his chin. "I seem to recall a lot of debts that you guys have due to a few services I did for you. Now that I'm back and want to get back in the game, I want to cash those debts in now." He lowered his voice. "And there are no take backs."

"Really?" asked a Jamaican sounding man in dreadlocks and a green suit. "How do we even know if you still got it, Stone? You've been gone for a long time, and the first thing you did when you got out was go after some stupid pup in a backwater town."

"That stupid pup needed to die because I needed to send a message," said Damian, growling. "Don't. Fuck. With. Me. A lesson some of you are forgetting at this moment."

"Well, you didn't really kill him, he's just missing," said Andre.

"Oh. he's dead. After what I put him through, anybody would break and kill themselves. Maybe he dived in front of a truck, drowned himself, put a knife to his neck... ohhh I just get tingly whenever I think of it," whispered Stone, shivering with excitement.

"The point is; what proof do we have of you being you still?" asked the Jamaican.

The answer he got was a large gym bag that was wet and sticky at the bottom that was thrown by Stone at the table. The bosses all looked at the bag, then each other, then the bag again. Nobody wanted to touch it, but it was clear that they had to. Finally, taking a deep breath, Rodriguez ordered one of his body guard to unzip it. When they saw what was inside, everybody turned green. Some even lost their lunch at both the sight of what lay inside and the horrible stench that slowly became too much for them.

"Damn…" muttered Andre, turning away in disgust.

"Those are the heads of all your top lieutenants," answered Stone as he pulled out his infamous blade, Shiva, out and licked the still bloody edge. "Me and Shiva did all that in less than two hours. Do you want to see what we can do in a whole night?"

"W-whatever you need, Stone, you got it!" shouted the Jamaican.

"Ditto!"

"Whatever it is man, I'll give it."

"I am not ending up like that. I'll pay."

"Goddmanit… fine I'll pay up."

"Same here!"

"Man, to hell with this!" shouted Jackson, who looked at his fellow bosses in disgust. "You guys are a bunch of cowards! He's just one guy! I ain't paying for shit!"

"Oh, Jackson, Jackson, Jackson," muttered Stone, shaking his head. "I told Williams that having you as his second-in-command would be bad for his gang. Then he gets in a car accident, you become top dog, and suddenly your waving your dick around like your Donald Trump winning the Republican Party Nominee."

"Hey, whatever debts you had with Williams are not my problem. I'm out of here. Come on boys," said Jackson to his men who didn't move a muscle. "I said let's go!"

"You know Jackson, out of everyone here I figured you would be the most troublesome," said Damian, putting his gun down and smirked. "That's why I figured I'd go to Stephen and offer him the same deal. He was a lot smarter then you."

Jackson's eyes widened as his men pulled their guns out and aimed at him. "Oh, son of a bi-"

A few shots in the chest later and he was down for good. Stone smiled in satisfaction. "Any other objections?" The rest of the bosses shook their head. "Great. I'll be sending you my requests soon. For now, have those heads as a gift. They are yours technically after all."

He laughed before sighing and said, "It's good to be back."


	2. Rocky

_**AN: And here we are with Rocky. One of the things I've been criticized in the last story during Zuma's Fear was the romance and how kinda… dry it was. I admit, looking back now maybe it wasn't such a hot idea to make it romance between Zuma and Rocky, but I have to move forward with the romance and I'm going to try my hardest to make it flow better.**_

 _ **One person once asked me why I see Zuma and Rocky as a couple. Well, mostly because they have opposite personalities. Rocky seems a more level headed, brain using, by the book dog who runs on logic while Zuma seems more brazen, emotional using, and adventure seeking physical kind of dog. Plus the fact that Zuma loves water while Rocky doesn't is always a funny thing to use.**_

 _ **Anyway, let's continue. Feel free to add to the Zuma's Fear page on TV Tropes by the way.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol.**_

* * *

"That's going to be $14.50."

"Here, keep the change," said Rocky as he handed over fifteen dollars to the gas station attendant.

"Thanks, you on your way home?" asked the attendant as he pumped gas into Rocky's vehicle.

Rocky, sighing, leaned against the car and closed his eyes. "Something like that…"

Getting the hint that he didn't want to talk, the gas station attendant just shrugged and continued pumping in the gas. When it finally filled it up, he took the nozzle out and closed the cap. "There you go. All filled up."

"Thanks, by the way…" Rocky went inside his car and took out a small photograph and showed it to the man. "Have you seen this pup?"

The human took the photograph that showed Zuma on his surfboard, smiling as he rode the waves of Adventure Bay. "I've think I saw him in the papers a few months ago. Didn't they say he died or something?"

Rocky immediately snatched the photo back and growled at the man, causing him to back away with his hands up. "He's. Not. _Dead."_

Without waiting for an explanation, Rocky tossed the photo back in his seat and pressed the gas. His tires streaked as he headed back on the highway with over a hundred miles to go before he reached Adventure Bay. No doubt Ryder would scold him for leaving again, but Rocky didn't care; Ryder wasn't going to stop him.

Nothing was going to stop him from finding Zuma.

* * *

Rocky was halfway before the call of nature hit him. Stopping on the side, he sniffed for a decent tree and used it before returning to his vehicle. What he wasn't expecting was a bunch of bikers looking at his car and laughing at it. Grumbling because he knew this was going to be trouble, Rocky walked towards his car and hoped he could just go without any problems.

One of the bikers noticed him and snorted, "Hey, check it out. It's some pup. Maybe the owner of this ridiculous eco-clown car."

"That 'eco-clown car' happens to be mine," said Rocky, stepping forward without fear. "If you don't mind. I'd like to get inside and leave."

"A pup driving a car? What has the world become now?" asked another biker. "Bad enough we got animals getting jobs and treated like humans more every day, now they're driving on our roads?" He spat on the tires. "Give me a break."

"I don't want any trouble," said Rocky. "I just want to go home."

One of the bikers, maybe the leader from the looks of his black and gold lined jacked, circled around the vehicle. When he stopped in front of the Paw Patrol logo, he pulled out his cigarette in his mouth and pressed it against the logo. "I think I know what this is. It's one of those Paw Patrol cars I've seen on the news sometimes. Remember? That Damian Stone fella?"

Rocky's left eye twitched at the sound of that name. A name that only caused one emotion in his heart: hate.

"Oh yeah," said another biker with wide eyes and a smile. "Dude, that guy was the shit! You saw that video he made of making that dalmatian his bitch? What a fucking psycho! It was awesome."

"That dalmatian," growled Rocky, narrowing his eyes. "Happens to be my friend…"

"Oh so your one of those Paw Patrolers?" asked the leader, coming forward and smirking at the mixed breed. "I heard you lost two of ya's to that murderer. One's got mental trauma and the other went and killed himself."

"He's not dead…" whispered Rocky.

"Of course, considering the whole thing is apparently his fault to begin with…"

"Shut up…"

"I guess it's not a surprise the dumb pup went and drown himself. YaAAAAAUGH!" cried out the leader as Rocky's teeth chomped on his balls. His gang was so shocked that they jumped back before a large ripping sound made them turn away in disgust and horror.

The leader was crying as he held his bleeding pelvis before Rocky spat out what was left of them in his mouth. "Get… the hell… away from… my car."

"F-Fucking pup!" shouted another biker who went for a revolver in his back pocket but Rocky was quicker. He tackled the human, head first, and knocked him down before clawing at his eyes; scratching them so bad that chances were he wouldn't be able to see through them again. Rocky quickly grabbed the gun and, with some difficulty, held it with both his paws and fired at the other bikers. The bullet missing and hitting one of the lights of their bikes as the humans raised their hands in surrender.

"D-dude! Do you know who you are messing with?!" shouted one of the bikers.

"… let me tell you what I've messed with," growled Rocky. "I've messed with a single human who has not only killed people in cold blood, but has damaged my friends both physically and mentally. I have seen more blood and death then an army dog in the short span of a few months. I've brushed with death so often I could give him high-fives as he passes by. For the past four months I've been looking for the most important pup in my life who ran away because of that monster. I search everywhere and anywhere for him. I've fought punks like you and wild dogs. My owner and best friends are angry at me for always leaving, especially when we need to stick together so I feel like a horrible little selfish prick every time I leave. But you know what's the worst thing in the world compared to all of this?"

"W-what?" asked the biker.

"That deep down… he might be dead. He might really be gone. The one pup in this world who filled a void for me and became more than that. If he's gone… I got nothing left and rather find the monster who did this, kill him, and then kill myself since life without him is nothing," muttered Rocky as a tear dripped down his eye. "So let me ask you something, asshole… do you want to mess _with me?!"_

The bikers all shook their heads at once.

"Take your trash and get out…" muttered Rocky as he lowered the gun.

He sat there, doing nothing as the biker's followed on his threat and drove away, leaving two of the bikes behind since their users no longer needed them. Throwing the gun away, Rocky got back in his car without a word and took a deep breath. Activating his pup tag, he answered, "Ryder… it's me… I'm coming home for a short time…"

There was no answer.

"Ryder?"

" _Rocky… are you staying home this time."_

"… I can't stop looking for him," whispered Rocky, closing his eyes. "I love him, Ryder. More than a friend, you know that."

"… _I know,"_ muttered Ryder. _"A part of me wishes I could go with you."_

"How's H.A.V.O.C doing?" asked Rocky.

" _I could use your help with it."_

"Ryder… I…"

" _Marshall's home."_

For a moment, the world stood still as Rocky's heart stopped. "W-what?"

" _He's home, Rocky. He's finally home. Please… for him…"_

"… okay."


	3. Ryder

_**AN: We're now at Ryder's chapter. One of the criticisms that I got was that sometimes I made Ryder a little too foolish on some of his actions in the past such as leaving Zuma alone after a panic attack or not telling the police about the guy who threatened Zuma's human parents. To be fair, I see that and I've taken time to correct that about my writing of him. This chapter kinda explores that aspect that Ryder sort of blames himself for everything that's happened. After all, the pups are his responsibility and as the leader every choice he makes could mean life or death for all of them since they put themselves in harm's way.**_

 _ **As for the upcoming episodes that are said to be next in Season 3, I am looking forward to the following:**_

 _ **-Pups Bear-ly Save Danny: I like this Danny X guy because he's hilariously stupid. A guy wanting to be extreme and gets into trouble for it, sure I can see that. Unlike Alex who is a natural sociopath who likes seeing destruction because he's the next Anti-Christ**_

 _ **-Pups Save a Film Festival: I look forward to the many movie shout outs that will be used in this.**_

 _ **-Pups Get Growing: I don't know if this means that they're go through a design change or just increase a bit in height. But if it lets us see the pups mature a bit, I'm for it.**_

 _ **-Merpups Save the Turbots: Be interesting to see the Merpups again.**_

 _ **-Pups Winter Wonder Show: I've got a soft spot for any episode of any series that focuses on winter. It's my favorite season of the year. Plus, more action for Everest… hopefully with some focus with her and Marshall. A guy can dream.**_

 _ **-Pups Save a Satellite: Pups in Space? Why do I get the feeling Ryder is going to make a spaceship…**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol.**_

* * *

Ryder always considered the death of his parents to be his greatest failure. His inability to save them, to just flee without saving them from that fire, it haunted him even today. It's why he made Paw Patrol, it's why he pushed himself to help everyone and do whatever he could to save lives. He wanted to make up for that one night where he lost the two most important people in his life. Katie always told him he didn't need to push himself so hard. He didn't have to make himself Batman or Spiderman just because of what happened.

Yet this time. There was no excuse for what has happened in the last few months. Zuma was gone, maybe dead. Rocky was mostly away trying to find him, making him and the other pups sick with worry. Marshall was still stuck in a trauma coma with no signs of getting better. And finally, the other three pups were just in tears over the whole thing.

Many people said Ryder often had a solution to every problem. This time he didn't.

Paw Patrol was on hiatus until everything could be brought back to a heel. Some asked if it was gone for good, but he refused to believe it was. He and his pups worked too hard to let their dream die like this. It hurt to know that whenever an emergency came up he couldn't help people. He was down half a team, and while Chase, Skye, and Rubble were good, he refused to let them do anything dangerous on their own.

He didn't stop them from volunteering to help, as long as it was with his permission, but he could tell they were just as upset about not being a team again. Marshall was out of action until he was better mentally and emotionally. Rocky would never fully join again until he found Zuma, alive or dead. And Zuma?

Ryder dropped the wrench he was holding and sobbed into his hand. It was all his fault. If he had just told the police about that gangster who threated Greg and Marsha, he would still have his family. If he had just done the right thing instead of letting Greg handle it, he could have prevented this tragedy. Sure, Zuma wouldn't be part of the team most likely, but he would gladly take a world where he never joined over a world where he suffered.

He promised Zuma he would protect him. He would give him a home and a future. He failed him. He failed Greg, Marsha, and Shelly. He failed his pups.

 _I won't fail again,_ thought Ryder as he regained his composure and picked up the wrench he dropped. Only for a paw to pick it up and hand it back over to him with a smile.

"I think you dropped this, Ryder," said Rubble with a smile.

"Thanks, Rubble," said Ryder as he went back to his workbench. Rubble came over and took a look at the red and black camouflaged pup pack that was being made.

"So is this the H.A.V.O.C. armor you were talking about?" asked Rubble.

"Yeah, so far it's been a slow process. I've managed to get the basic function, armor, and helmets done. The pup packs for each of you is a bit of a problem." Ryder sighed. "Wish Rocky was here to help."

"He'll come home for good, Ryder. So will Marshall and Zuma," said Rubble with a soft smile. "Then we can get back to being Paw Patrol and save the day as always."

Ryder glanced at the youngest pup and slowly patted him on the head. "You really think that?"

"Don't you?" asked Rubble, tilting his head.

Ryder didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and tried to feel the same kind of optimium that Rubble had, yet it was buried under so much grief. "I don't know… so much has happened… I want to believe, but…" Ryder closed his fist. "Have I really been a good leader, Rubble?"

Rubble didn't answer. He just stared at Ryder who continued, "My choices have caused so much pain to the six of you, especially Zuma. I don't… I just keep seeing his hurt face over and over again. I… I kicked him Rubble." Ryder punch the ground so hard blood came out of his knuckles. "I hurt him… I actually, physically, hurt my own pup. I would like nothing more than to take a chainsaw and cut it off. I just keep thinking I could have done something better to prevent our family from ending up like this!"

Ryder took a deep breath as he pressed his head against the bench. He looked up at the ceiling, unable to do anything but breath in silence.

"Ryder, sir?" asked Rubble as Ryder slowly glanced over him… before Rubble bit him in the ankle.

"Yeow! What was that for, Rubble?!" shouted Ryder, rubbing his ankle.

"For saying something so stupid!" shouted Rubble, growling. Ryder's eyes widened as Rubble glared at him. "Ryder, you are not to blame for this. You did everything you could to keep us safe. Sure, things didn't work out, but as far as I am concerned this mission isn't over!"

"Mission? What mission?" asked Ryder.

Rubble took a deep breath. "To save Zuma from Damian Stone." He pointed to Ryder. "Our words are that no job is too big and no pup is too small. We may be down. We may be hurt. We may have lost some battles, but this mission isn't over. We've never failed a mission and we won't fail now. I know things look bad, but they've been bad before and we've won. Marshall, Rocky, _and_ Zuma are going to come back. Because we're family. We're friends. We're Paw Patrol."

Ryder stared at the little pup who seemed to have grown an inch or two in the boy's eyes. A small chuckle escaped his lips. "Rubble? Thank you."

"No problem," said Rubble with a smile. Suddenly, a rumble from his stomach made him blush. "Right, um, that's kinda why I came down here in the first place. Can we have lunch?"

"Let's go to whatever restaurant you want. It's on me," said Ryder, getting up and smiling at his pup.

 _Yes, lunch would be good,_ thought Ryder as the two of them exited the garage. _And then back to work. Because the mission isn't over…_


	4. Zuma

_**AN: So some people were wondering what kind of training Zuma's going through I bet? Well, you're going to find out some of it now. I've also been wanting to do another one shot, not anything specific or anything, but just for fun. Not sure what I'll do or how long it will take but I'll keep you guys posted.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol.**_

* * *

How long had he been down here? Days? Weeks? That wolf said he would teach him to fight, to survive. Yet the first thing he had done was drop him in this small cave with no way out, surrounded only by rocks and water. He had screamed for help, begged him to let him go, even just resorted to insulting him. The wolf ignored him. Zuma was starting to wonder if he just imagined the wolf or if was just as sick as Damian Stone.

Zuma felt his entire body nearly fall apart thinking even of his name. He was always in Zuma's dreams. Killing his family, his friends, even random strangers. A flow of blood surrounding Zuma as he was chained to the floor, unable to stop the monster that had made his life a living hell for years. Many nights he woke up scream, some nights he wished he never woke up at all.

The worst part was he couldn't just _end_ it like he had planned. He couldn't drown himself with the water since it wasn't that deep, and he's body always forced him to breath each time he tried. He couldn't stab his neck with the rocks because they weren't sharp on the ground and the ones that happened to be sharp were too high to reach. _I should have just drowned myself and be done with it,_ thought Zuma as he lay on the ground, the moonlight shining down upon him.

He wondered if the wolf was trying to let him die of hunger. While Zuma welcomed death easily, he didn't want it to be like this. He growled and muttered, "What does he want from me. It's been seven days!"

Just then, something fell right next to him. He blinked before turning over and spotted a dead rabbit. Its throat was cut, and blood was coming out towards Zuma. The pup screamed and jumped back, shivering like made upon seeing the bloody rabbit. "N-no! S-Stop it! Stop it!" shouted Zuma as he held his paws to his head.

The voices of his family were heard. Their screams echoing as they died one by one. Greg's face being burned on the grill before being shot to death. Marsha's fingers cut off one by one until her neck found itself the victim of Damain's knife. His sister, sweet Shelly, holding him as she slowly died and faded into darkness. All while covered in their blood to the laughter of a madman.

"W-why?! Why am I alive?! WHY DID YOU LET ME DIE?!" screamed Zuma to the sky. He didn't know if it was to the wolf or god or whoever. "It's bad enough I've lost everything twice! Why do you let me suffer like this?! Why can't I just have the pain end?!" He screamed and continued to scream all night.

* * *

It went on for days. A new freshly killed rabbit. He would bury it while fighting the screams and images. It slowly became easier each time a new rabbit came, almost every hour on the hour. It became harder though to move as his body began to get weaker and weaker. Without food, he was finished, but the pain was unbearable to the point where he couldn't sleep and barley could get water to drink.

The sun was really hot that day as he lay there in the middle of the cave. The rabbits, the ones he didn't have the strength to bury, were rotting around him. His stomach roared for food, his body warning him that he wouldn't last the night without something to eat. Zuma whimpered because he knew what the wolf was trying to do now, but now the choice was presented to him.

Eat the next rabbit… or die.

Sure enough, the rabbit was there in front of him. Fresh and filled with meat. Dripping with blood from its neck, but smelled so good. He stared the blood, the voices were there as always… but they were being drowned out by the sounds of his stomach.

Crawling, Zuma reached the rabbit. He opened his jaw, and took a big bite as blood squirted into his face.

* * *

Another week of just rabbits, but Zuma ate them all. It was like an addiction. As soon as it came from above he ate it like crazy. The rotten ones were gone one evening when he went to sleep, making him wonder how the wolf was able to do it. Yet, the best thing about it was his fear of blood.

It was gone.

The more he ate, the more blood that was spilled, the less he heard the voices. Until only silence was there.

Yet when he woke up to get his meal, instead he found the wolf known as Oriel waiting for him. "You've made your first step into gaining courage."

"Fiwst step?! Was it neawly stawving to death?!" growled Zuma, stomping forward. "You left me in there to die?!"

"I left you in there for a week to starve, this is true," admitted Oriel, keeping his neutral expression. "But I gave you food each day after. You only refused it because of your fear of blood. You had to make a choice. Face that fear or die. You faced it. You concurred it. Do you fear blood now?"

Zuma didn't answer, he just lowered his head. "Is… is this going to be like the rest of the training?"

"Yes, but it will be worth it. Don't you agree?"

Zuma tried to hear the screams of his family… but heard nothing.

"Yes."


	5. Detective Shaw

_**AN: So Tracker was an interesting pup. I liked the two episodes with him inside. His debut one was very well handled and I like how he speaks Spanish a lot (makes you wonder why Carlos doesn't). The other episode was fun, but I have to ask… WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU WATCH BABY SNAKES BORN NEXT TO A MAN EATING AND POISONUS SNAKE?!**_

 _ **So a question for you all, who had the better intro episode: Everest or Tracker?**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol.**_

* * *

 _Police Report Case: 24515_

 _Officer On Duty: Detective Andrew Shaw_

 _Date: Aug 15, 2015_

 _It's been nearly six months since the criminal known as Damian Stone left Adventure Bay and returned to Costal City. Since then, he's slowly started regaining his power and territory along with members of his old gang. You'd think the gangs would work together to wipe him out after the terror like grip he held on them for years, but I guess all of them are yellow-bellied. Word on the street is that he was responsible for taking out Jackson of the Vincent St. Vipers. I'm not gonna cry tears for Jackson (hell, I'd like to spit on his grave if he's got one), but I'd rather have any of these scum bags then Damian "F-ing" Stone._

 _My mentor always said there would be that once case, that one criminal, that you'd be unable to stop thinking about until you got him or he got you. Damian Stone is mine. Before his escape, I was after his ass whenever I could, even stopping a few cases here and there to focus on getting solid evidence on the guy. I hit a break with Zuma, but the Mayor screwed that up with his so called "brilliant" distraction. At least the guy is no longer in office. Karma is a bitch just like fate._

 _For the past few months, I've been tracking Damian's movements with the FBI, U.S. Marshalls, and such. However, they've all been ordered to return back to other cases as of a week ago. They can't keep putting such resources into one guy when he hasn't done anything 'big' since his snuff show back in Adventure Bay. Most think he's laying low after Zuma's "suicide" (I still doubt he's dead. Pup's tougher then he looks), but I know Stone. He's planning something big._

 _Word on the street is that he's getting into drugs a lot. Getting and buying up the smart kind of drug dealers and makers. The one with actual degrees in chemistry and shit rather than the usual meth lab addicts. He's getting weapons too… big ones. We're talking WWIII type shit. A lot of men and women too. Mostly just desperate people looking for money or average criminals. The other gangs are giving him some support, but I don't know if it's out of fear, loyalty, or dealings. Maybe all three._

 _Stone is planning something big. I've had to ruff a few of his men, but they are just in the dark about it too. It looks like I'm forced to play the waiting gaming._

 _I just hope I don't have to wait too long_


	6. Chase

_**AN: Alright, we've arrived at the last chapter. I know I said I would start Zuma's Courage right after this, but I've decided to wait until after the New Year to do it. I do other things in my life besides fanfiction and I want to make sure I complete some of that stuff before the holiday season in December. I work at Target so you can image how busy it will be until the New Year is over.**_

 _ **For this chapter I knew I was going to focus on Marshall, but I didn't know if I was going to do it in his POV or Chase's. In the end, I decided to go with Chase. Some people have asked me how does this fit in with the canon, well this is kind of a bit AU in my mind. Anyway, let's get reading.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol.**_

* * *

The youngest memory Chase ever had was when he and Marshall, both from the pet store, were adopted by Ryder and welcomed into his home. It was also the happiest memory he ever had. A place of feeling safe and loved. Not that the store wasn't bad mind you, the owner was nice and most of the pups were nice and friendly. It hurt knowing he didn't have a memory of his father or mother, but if there was one thing he was glad to have was a brother. Marshall had filled that role in an instant.

The two of them had trained and played together all throughout their lives, having each other's back and helping if the other required it. In many ways, Chase often saw them as the perfect balance. While he represented duty and loyalty, Marshall represented passion and courage. He risked his life to fight those who would be harmed by others while Marshall risked his life to save those who would be harmed by nature. Chase was there to remind Marshall when it was time to be serious and Marshall reminded him when it was time to have fun.

They were each other's perfect pair. Chase didn't believe in things like destiny, but if there was such a thing it would be fate that he and the dalmatian he loved so much were best of friends.

That's why it hurt so much to see his best friend in such a traumatized state. Chase knew it was his duty to protect and save all lives as a police officer; even the criminal ones. However, Damian Stone was no criminal. He was a monster, and Chase wore to one day kill the bastard who ruined his team. His family.

Chase continued to stare at Marshall who continued to stare at the wall with his wide eyes, hugging his favorite bear. Six months he had been like this. Barely eating or even speaking. If it wasn't for the fact that he was breathing, Chase would have sworn he was dead.

 _He might as well be,_ thought Chase, closing his eyes. _This isn't living._

He didn't fully understand what it was that the doctor had said about _why_ Marshall was like this, but it had to do something with living while the human and her unborn child had been killed. Marshall was ready to die to protect them. He demanded Zuma tell Damian to shoot him. And he watched as that monster kill the human just to make him suffer. Marshall was trapped in a spiral of guilt and depression, and Chase had no way of knowing how to save him.

"Please, Marshall…" whispered Chase, opening his eyes as he stared into Marshall's soul. "Please, whatever it is that I can do… just say something!" He jumped onto his bed and stared into his face, which held no reaction. "The Marshall I know is in there. I know he is! I need my best buddy! I need my partner! I need… I need my brother, Marshall." Before he knew it, tears were falling down his face. "Skye and Rubble miss you. Ryder is working himself to insomnia. Rocky… he's always looking for Zuma who for all we know might have killed himself!" He wrapped his arms around Marshall and cried. "Marshall, please wake up! I know you think it's your fault for what happened, but it's not! _It's not!"_

…

…

"… I should be dead."

Chase's eyes opened and he slowly looked at Marshall with wide eyes as the fire pup blinked and began to shake. "It should have been me. Not her, not the baby. I should be dead. I want… I want…" Marshall took a few deep breaths and shouted, _"I want to be the one whose dead!"_

There was a long and deep silence.

"He hurt me Chase… he broke me… I can still feel him… I can still hear him… I can see every horrible thing he did…" whispered Marshall, resting his head against Chase's chest. "I want it to end, Chase. I can't live like this!" He considered Chase's eyes and cried, "If you do love! You'll kill me, Chase! I can't do it because I'm afraid, but if you could… if you could…"

Chase stood there, holding his brother who was begging for his death. An hour had to have passed before Chase closed his eyes. "You want to die that badly?"

"Yes…" whispered Marshall.

SMACK!

Marshall didn't expect Chase to smack him. He didn't expect a second blow either. Or a third. By the time, Chase stopped with the blows, he was glaring at the scared dalmatian. "Coward."

"W-what?"

"I said you're a damn coward!" shouted Chase, glaring down at Marshall. "You want to die?! Run away from what happened?! Make us cry over your dead body before putting you in the ground?! If that's how you think you can fix your problem then go kill yourself, Marshall, but I will not cry for you!"

Chase turned around and walked away, huffing. "W-Where are you going?!" shouted Marshall.

"Home. I could be doing better things then listening to you," answered Chase. "I thought the dalmatian I knew, who could come back from anything, who wouldn't even think of giving up and wanting to cause more grief to his friends would ask me to kill him, but I guess I was wrong. Goodbye, Marshall."

"You don't understand!" shouted Marshall, holding his paws over his head. "You have no idea what he did to me! None of you!"

"… I do…" whispered Chase as he stopped halfway to the door. Marshall, slowly lifting his head, listened. "Every time he hurt you, he was hurting me. He was hurting all of us. Hearing Skye saying she'll never love me? That broke my heart. Telling the world about how my mom was raped, killed my siblings, and how her family blames me for her suffering? That brought back the shame and guilt I had in full force." He turned back and glared at him. "And it wasn't just me. Rocky told everyone the story of his brother's death and how he cowered to let it happen. Rubble destroyed Zuma's prized possessions. Ryder _kicked_ Zuma around like a football. It wasn't just you he hurt, Marshall. He hurt every one of us. How do you think Zuma felt knowing he told Damian Stone to kill you? Someone he treasured as a friend? And older brother."

Marshall didn't answer.

Chase slowly turned around and walked towards Marshall. "I get it. You feel guilty that you survived and that mother and her child died. So do we all. I feel guilty for just letting you get into that situation in the first place." He closed his eyes. "I even still feel guilty for what I did to my mom. You think I haven't thought of taking the gun Ryder added to my pack and think of shooting myself in the head? You think I sometimes haven't wondered if that pain would just end if I let death take me? I do. Truth is, we're all fucked up in the head, Marshall." He opened his eyes. "But every time I think of putting myself in a coffin, I think of all the sorrowful faces that would mourn for me. Ryder. Skye. You. Everyone in Adventure Bay. The thought that I would be leaving them to suffer for my selfish desire to kill myself would just be worse. So I live. I live to protect and serve. If I die doing so then at least I died bravely, but deep down I know it's better to live. I want to live and deep down, you do to. Right, buddy?"

Tears fell down Marshall's eyes as he fell to his haunches and nodded. "… yes…"

"Then how about you and I get the heck out of here, go home, and make Paw Patrol strong again," said Chase as he walked over to Marshall and held his paw. "We'll get the team together and we'll stop Damian Stone."

"I don't want to stop him," growled Marshall as his sorrowful eyes were replaced with rage. "I want to kill him."

"…. We will," answered Chase, nodding. "I swear he will die by our paws. It may not be justice, but just this once I am willing to forsake that."

"… Chase, I want you to promise me one thing," whispered Marshall as he wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. "If he ever… captures me again or is about to… don't let him take me alive."

"… I promise," whispered Chase as he wrapped his paws around his best friend. "You fired up?"

"I'm fired up," whispered Marshall with a small smile. "And I have to pee. Where is the bathroom."

Chase laughed and knew his best friend was back.


End file.
